Never kissed a Tory? What about a Farage fan?

Yahoo

20-05-2025

A friend of mine in her mid-30s always declares her dating motto is, 'Vote Labour, sleep Tory!' When asked why, she says that all the Left-wing men she's been intimate with pretend to be feminists until faced with real-life dilemmas, like division of housework or whose career to prioritise. She feels that if she'd boarded the Titanic with any of these covert chauvinist pigs, 'they'd have shoved you overboard and leapt into the lifeboats.' By contrast, all the Right-leaning men she's romanced have been honest about residual sexism – 'you can't possibly carry that vast suitcase yourself' – with the added bonus of chivalry.
But my friend appears to be in the minority, according to the latest research on lonely hearts. Researchers from Harvard and the University of Southampton found that Labour, Liberal and Green voters attract more 'likes' on dating apps than conservative ones. Within the Right-leaning subset, Reform voters meet with more swipe-rights than Tories.
Which may be due to the lingering influence of Harry Enfield's 'Tory boy' sketches involving a pimply, bespectacled youth, who would now be highly eligible for Channel 4's The Undateables. It's worth noting that the demographic polled were aged 18-40, a group where voting tends to skew left. Those of us with a decade-or-two's more lived experience might try to persuade these romance-seekers to crank open their restricted mindsets. Or even to point out that they might be single for a reason.
As I approach my 30th wedding anniversary, I can firmly state that the least of your worries, when it comes to wedded compatibility, is your beloved's voting intentions. My husband and I can shake the foundations of the house with our disagreements over such trifles as inheritance tax, the wisdom of lockdowns and the Assisted Dying Bill.
Which is as you might expect when a girl from Sevenoaks shacks up with a former CND spokesman. I view this as a good thing: a partisan opinion isn't worth a bean until rigorously cross-examined by a skilled opponent. Is there anything smugger than those couples who share every last view on global affairs, like they're running their own mini politburo? These people, I tend to find, are the ones who can't risk anyone seeing what's happening under the domestic bonnet, for fear everything will swiftly implode.
It's long been clear to me that the differences that will break a couple concern money, sex, children and ethics. If one person in a relationship is stingy, selfish, bad in bed and a rubbish parent, their diatribes on the wrongness of Donald Trump will feel far less convincing. My favourite dating expert Gillian McCallum, head honcho at Britain's oldest matchmaking bureau, Drawing Down the Moon, advises clients to throw away prescriptive lists of what they're seeking in an ideal other.
Physical chemistry won't be achieved by shared views on immigration policy and a GSOH all too often means 'laughs at my jokes'. She also observed, during the sharply-polarised years following the Brexit vote that while people who voted Leave tended to be openminded about romancing Remainers, the favour wasn't often returned by the 'stay' camp. You don't need the wisdom of Solomon to see a person's romantic options are restricted if they're incapable of believing a kind, sexy person could spurn the EU's bureaucrats.
Many of the things I enjoy most about my spouse, such as his keen interest in esoteric jazz, dreadnoughts, local planning regs and French politics. But they're now part of the glue that keeps us together, in sickness and dispute. Vive la différence!
Broaden your horizons with award-winning British journalism. Try The Telegraph free for 1 month with unlimited access to our award-winning website, exclusive app, money-saving offers and more.